Sleepless Nights
by Sevanadium
Summary: (Pirate AU) Arthur and Francis speak together under the light of the moon. As usual, it doesn't turn out well.


The wind picked up droplets of water and flung them at Arthur's face. The spray felt nice, refreshing even, in the July heat that made him want to shrug off his jacket and toss his hat overboard. But he was a captain, and captains should never act improper in front of their crew. At least that's what Arthur believed anyways.

He stood at the very front of his ship, 'The Queen Elizabeth', with pearly sails and freshly painted railings. His first love, he knew that if given the choice between any person he wished to bed and his ship, he would choose Elizabeth.

Long fingers curled around his waist and Arthur's muscles constricted, like a viper preparing to strike. He paused his musings and stared straight ahead while he waited for Francis to speak.

"Arthur, you feel so stiff, you need to loosen up a bit," Francis spoke into his ear. His hands moved upwards until they rested on his shoulders and Arthur repressed a shudder.

"I would if you would get your hands off of my person." Arthur spoke in a hushed tone, as if he didn't want to let his sleeping crew hear their conversation in the dead of night. He turned and saw blue eyes glowing in the ethereal light of the moon.

A smirk. "You always say that, but you never relax once I let go. You should let yourself live, you're free, only the wind can control you."

"I am bound by regulation. Unlike you, I don't go pillaging other people's property with the hopes that it will sink to the bottom of the ocean." Arthur pushed Francis' hands off his shoulders.

"Then what do you call what happened to my beautiful ship?" Francis stepped back, his eyebrows raised in a way that only he could achieve.

Arthur's own pulled together in a frown. Francis had once likened them to two caterpillars meeting in a forbidden kiss. "You were the one that attacked my ship first."

"You could have let me sink with it though." Arthur could have ignored Francis and not insisted that he become a prisoner aboard their ship, as there was a 'bounty' on his head. Arthur would never shuck him off to a jail for a few gold coins.

"I'm sure that frogs are capable of swimming," Arthur pointed out. He leaned against the railing, his red coat was brown in the dull light and the flame from the oil lamp danced over their faces.

Francis made a clicking sound, one of disapproval. "That joke is long old by now, you should think of a new one."

"Says the man that has insisted that I'm his little rabbit for the last few hundred years. All you've got are French nicknames that leave half the crew baffled and the other half struggling for breath."

"Do you not find it strange that your crew doesn't wonder why I, a prisoner, am allowed to walk free?" Francis asked.

The waves lapped against the ship in the silence that elapsed while Arthur thought of a reply. He opened his mouth before he felt ready to.

"You know as well as I do that people don't question us like they should. They just accept whatever we tell them as truth and continue on with their lives," Arthur replied.

"But have you ever wondered why? Why is it that we were destined to be different to the others, why we are affected by the happenings within our lands?" The breeze blew Francis' hair, golden locks swayed in the wind. Arthur kept his hair short, even if he wanted to grow it out. Anything to be different to Francis.

"Do you think I haven't? We have to accept it. It's futile to ask questions that we don't have the answer for. Why is the sky blue? What causes rain? These are all questions that will never be answered." Arthur leaned back and his hand grabbed the rim of his hat. The multitude of feathers tucked into it rippled magnificently as the ship slowly moved towards England, it's destination. Where Arthur would report back to his higher ups about the state of their trading posts in the Caribbean.

While Arthur felt a pull towards the ocean and the freedom that came with it, he did not feel drawn to a life of piracy. Much preferring to give a haughty look as he told other people he served under the queen and the law behind his wrath.

"Look at how fast we are progressing. I am sure that one day we will understand what our purpose is." Francis turned so he leaned over the side of the ship, his elbows resting against the railing. The stars were bright and Arthur's trained eye picked out the Southern Cross, amongst other constellations, with ease.

His eyes moved to Francis, whose eyes were closed as he embraced the creaking of the ship and the slapping of waved against the hull of the boat.

"We were made to fight," Arthur answered.

Francis shook his head. "We were made to rally our people together, and turn our many nations into one."

"You've seen what happens when we lose our boundaries. We perish because our people decide they want to live under one name." Arthur's lips were set in a grim line.

"That is a good thing, no? We are expendable, we make no difference to our people. We are controlled by them and if it is their choice to break down borders between themselves, then so be it. Our deaths would be for a good cause," Francis said, his voice lifting and dropping with his sing-song French accent.

"What if I don't want to die?" Arthur asked.

"Well then, you are a foolish man, Arthur. For we must all die at some point or another. No man is immortal," Francis answered and turned away. He wore white, a colour of purity that seemed unsuited to the Frenchman. Worn boots clicked against the floor of the ship as he left Arthur.


End file.
